Childhood
by TheNameIsJo
Summary: He wanted to give her what his dad took away: a childhood...Too bad it wasn't turning out that way. Red MistxHit-Girl
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first Kick-Ass fanfic! Yay! Oh and so you don't get confused, it stays in first person between Chris and Mindy every other chapter (chapter one is Chris, chapter two is Mindy, etc...) Enjoy.**

**WARNING: The rating will go up as the chapters progress for language and content. And please don't bash this pairing! They're not real, you know?**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter One: Opening**

Message sent.

Man, I hadn't seen those two words in a while...Actually I hadn't seen my Myspace page in over three months. Not since all that shit with Kick-Ass, my dad, and Hit-Girl happened.

And speaking of "HG", she's the one I sent the message to...After sorting through the thousands of messages clogging my inbox of course. Like I said, I hadn't checked my page and didn't even fucking plan to until I decided to do the whole "self discovery" shit that my mother kept ranting about during her lonely drinking parties. Her "happy hour" that had turned into a "happy eternity" after one of my dad's fingers had been found covered in pigeon vomit on the sidewalk. Fucking beautiful, right?

Eh, in a sick way I think it is. I mean she used to drink before he died, not as much, but she still did. Probably because of his work at first which is understandable. Now it was just to help numb the loss and to hide the fact that she worried I'd be the same way he was. I mean a drug lord not little bit-sized bird snacks scattered all over New York.

I finally blinked from the "sent" alert, my eyes burning from the screen. I don't even remember how long I had been staring at it or why. Maybe I was just hoping she'd instantly reply to the person she still partly blamed for her father dying. The son of the guy who put her only family in prison for something he had nothing to do with. Damn if that was the reason I was fucking stupid.

"Ah...Nhhh..."

I let out a long yawn while stretching my arms. My eyes finally avoiding the blinding screen to glance over at my unorganized "Red Mist" shit that still hadn't moved from the bottom of the closet. It had been there as long as I had been avoiding Myspace and was probably permanently stuck in that crinkled position from the sweat that had soaked through. Stunk to high hell too.

I let out another groan before forcing myself to get up and see if the suit would actually hang up on a hanger without resembling a three-year-old's art project. Surprisingly, the leather was ok. No creases or anything noticeable from a distance. And maybe it was the shock that it could still hang nicely on the clothes rack that prevented my nose from shrinking. Yup it still reeked.

"Will this even fit anymore?"

I talked to myself a lot...Hey I didn't have friends because of that douche bodyguard and I was still adjusting to a highschool that required metal detectors. Yes, it was the same school I had been going to before with Dave and his friends but now I didn't have protection from those fuck tard muggers. I couldn't exactly carry a gun around.

"Hmm..."

I tied the cord of the mask around the collar of the shirt securely...At least I thought I did until it fell off the string completely...And I didn't bother picking it up and fixing it. Not cause I'm lazy or something but because I spotted my newer, probably better fitting body suit draped in the back of the closet. The "Orange Mist" costume if you will. I hadn't really decided on a name for it yet...Or worn it for that matter.

"Orange Mist?"

It didn't sound so cool out loud, especially not with my lisp. Eh whatever it didn't really matter. I didn't plan on wearing it anytime soon or ever if my new objective actually came to fruition. It more-than-likely wouldn't but a guy can dream.

Yet another one of my nasally "geektastic" sighs escaped as I quickly snatched my mask from the floor, taking it and the string to my bed in an attempt to repair it. My mind kind of wandering rather than focusing on the piece that I really, really wanted to wear again.

My mask, leather suit, boots, gloves, and sexy fucking cape. The whole thing. I would wear it again, I promised myself I would...But that isn't really what I was thinking about while feeding cord through the holes.

What I was thinking about leads back to my mother's drunken lectures about "self discovery" and "help for the mind". Shit she had seen advertised at three A.M. on God-knows-what channel. Regardless, some of the crap she'd be spewing had made an impact on me. It was nothing major but she had a few valid points...concerning things related to me becoming like my father. Stuff like making a change for the greater good, stopping the coke sales, helping some of the guys get off the crap...And what can I say? I'm a fucking comic book geek and got excited at the thought of changing lives for the better. And hey who knows? Maybe my dad would have been proud of me even if I stopped his drug ring. I still had his real estate business to work on after all. That and I wanted to try the super hero thing for real.

"Oh fuck me..."

I listened to my own whispers when the side of the mask tore. Piece of shit plastic...thing! I still don't know what it was made of but it made my face sweat like a bitch in heat. Also it apparently tears after being prodded for so long.

"Maybe I should switch to a cloth one like hers..."

Ah talking to myself again but at least this time it had to do with someone else. The super heroine assassin-Hit-Girl. The person who was the target of my latest goal instead of a shooting target falling from a window. Incidently, I still needed to apologize for that...Assuming she responded to me at all.

No, fuck that. Even if she **did **reply it'd say "fuck off", or "up yours, dick head", or "I know where you live and I'll cut you". Something horrid that an eleven-year-old shouldn't know. Still I had risked the whole being sliced into a compact size thing just to get my foot in the door of helping people for real.

I don't know why I chose her to start with. Maybe because my dad had screwed her over since before she was born. Maybe because she seemed like she needed the attention...Or rather deserved to have a decent childhood that wasn't **completely **riddled with bullet holes.

Anyway the point is I wanted to help give her the childhood my dad stole. Even though I already knew I couldn't really say or do anything that Big Daddy hadn't already talked to her about. For God's sake she was running around calling people cunts and knew what it meant! He obviously never hid anything from her or censored anything she may have asked about.

Still I had to start somewhere, help someone I actually kind of knew, stop hiding in my dad's shadow...And I wanted it to be her.

"Got it."

The cord finally knotted enough to prevent slipping back through the opening. The mask finally holding itself together after about a fifteen minute struggle.

That's not why I was talking to myself again though. I was only noting that I had a reply alert flickering on the computer.

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****A/N: Hope you enjoyed chapter one. Please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Second chapter. Enjoy.**

**WARNING: The rating will go up in later chapters due to language and content. Please no bashing of this pairing. If you don't like it don't read it. ^^**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Two: Enemy**

Hey, I know you'll probably just delete this or not believe me but I'm sorry about what happened. I wanna make it up to you...Show you how to have fun as a kid...I guess. Childhood shit, you know? So is it cool if we meet somewhere to talk?

-Red Mist

That was it. A fucking "I'm sorry" and an invitation to hook up somewhere. No fucking "hey I was a total cunt rag to you", "hey I helped kill your dad and I should have my cock chopped off", or even a "you have every right to hate me" line. Nothing but "I'm sorry".

Motherfucker.

I glared at the screen, feeling my mouth twitch with disgust, watching my reflection twist into some fucked up expression that looked like a mix between a dying horse and a foot. And the sad thing is that it wasn't even the douche wad's message that made me cringe.

It was the fact that I took even a fucking minute of my time to send a two line reply to the asshole!

I shot one last glare at the screen, like it would make him explode through the computer if I stared hard enough. Yeah it was retarded and gay but it didn't stop me from hoping it would happen.

The chair made this obnoxious squeak when I spun it around. Usually that bothered me but at this point I just didn't wanna look at the monitor. Even looking at my blank walls, worn out bed, and crappy new life was better than that.

Ok it wasn't all that crappy but it still sucked balls.

I jumped from the chair, ignoring the other shrill noises the seat made, and plopped onto my mattress. Somehow managing to flip over to stare at the ceiling, I don't remember how I did it honestly...Then again the smallest tasks were pretty much a blur anymore. If it didn't involve kicking, punching, or reloading I didn't really give a flying fuck to do it. Hence my lack of effort to turn over.

"Uhhhnnn..."

Great. Now I could feel the dying horse foot hybrid face! Only now it was just because I was bored as all hell. Who wouldn't be though? No, scratch that. "Normal" people would be lying in bed in the dark with tissues bombarding their eyes and sobbing uncontrollably. "Oh my daddy's dead! My daddy left me!" Dumb asses. Sure I had my little pussy cry after I moved in here but I got a fucking grip. Even now I sometimes regret doing it, my daddy would have been ashamed to see his "baby doll" acting like a wimp. Sorry Daddy.

Anyway I'm not exactly what people classify as "normal" I already knew that growing up. And being in public school confirmed it. All these prissy bitches thinking they're so awesome cause they have cash but hang out with "thugs". Thugs that would shit themselves if they saw me in a dark alley.

I couldn't help but laugh at that thought even though I knew it wouldn't cure my frustration for the night. Because that is the down side of being "abnormal". I'm trapped between four walls filled with video games and preteen entertainment...And it fucking blows. I needed more than that, more excitement! Give me a crack head to wail on or someone who deserves to get a nice kick to the head.

That's why I kept my identity as Hit-Girl, kept fighting alongside Dave, and kept it a secret from Marcus.

I sat up when hearing the front door slam shut, the sound of heavy boots walking their usual routine to carry my adopted father into the room next to mine. The door closing quietly as to not wake me. Oh if only he knew.

Again I laughed to myself. He could **never **find out and that's what also really sucked about this new life. I couldn't tell him about the mugger I beat to holy Hell last week, or that drug dealer who "accidentally" took too much of the shit he was selling two nights ago, or about the majority of Frank D'amico's "circle" being wiped out since his death three months ago. It wasn't like life with my daddy at all which was fucked up in itself.

"I still have you, Loser."

I couldn't resist looking back at the dimmed screen, seeing Dave's stupid Kick-Ass Myspace photo blinking as he signed on. Obviously searching through his inbox to pick a few random jobs for the night...Small jobs he never invited me to go on since he was trying to keep a low profile...In other words trying to hide the fact that he was still fighting crime from Katie. Idiot.

Oh well. Not like I wanted to go on a cat hunt or help an old lady cross the street only to be mugged on the other side. I had shit to do to, but unlike his page mine was flooded with people that wanted other people dead. Seriously, are they that fucking stupid? I don't just go around killing cause it's fun...even though it is. If they haven't done anything to deserve death I spam the person who asked with ads for "Natural Male Enhancement". Nothing like pictures of small penises growing when you add water filling the website your parents monitor.

Though I do get quite a few that I take on...More often than not though I ignore the requests all together and wing it. Patrolling all night with the hopes that an asshole will be trying to rape some chick or a gang will be shanking a guy.

"Dave, you retard..."

I chuckled again when seeing his main photo change to an even more ridiculous super hero pose. His body in a weird fighting position that would get his ass killed and his face flushed red while he tried to look tough. A similar look that he had gotten when we fought together one night. Girl getting jumped, him standing completely akward not sure whether to whip it out and start jerking it or break out the batons.

Yeah he was still pathetic but he was all I had backing me up incase Marcus ever did find out about my ventures. That was enough to call us friends even at school.

I hopped off the bed, landing a little louder than I thought I would, still managing to keep my calm incase Marcus walked in and saw me taking my mask out from the back of my drawer.

"Christopher D'amico..."

I choked when spitting out his name. It may have been a nice manly name for a guy but to my ears it sounded more like "Mother-fucking Cock-sucking Prickzilla". He was such a dick...Again I wondered why I agreed to meet him at the bowling alley. Probably for the same reason I hung out with Kick-Ass despite his incompetence. The thrill of doing something different and the amazing sense of danger that came with it.

Ok calling Chris dangerous would be idiotic since the last time I saw him he was at school trying to get his jockstrap untangled from his backpack. But regardless he was still a D'amico and probably up to something...

"Something he'll regret if he fucks with me."

I tied my mask on, unable to hold back the smirk crossing my lips. The usual look I gave before someone was missing a limb. I couldn't help it though. It was so intriguing that if he was in fact up to no good that he'd use such a weird approach. Teaching me how to be a kid? Fucking strange...And yet I could use it to my advantage...

I quickly retrieved the small handgun from the springs beneath my mattress, making sure it was fully loaded.

Yeah I could use Chris' plan completely. After all Marcus would be more willing to trust that I'm not crime fighting if he saw me handling makeup like a proper fucking young lady. And naturally if I put myself around Chris then I'd get to know my enemy.

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****A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Please review. ^^**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Much appreciation! I hope you enjoy chapter three. ^^**

**WARNING: The rating will go up as the chapters progress. You've been warned. Please no bashing of this pairing, thank you!**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Three: Laughing**

Meeting at the bowling alley between Third and Main at five P.M. And the time is currently...drum roll please...

I glanced down at my phone for the tenth time.

"Five thirty-six. Great."

She couldn't be on time could she? No, of course not. Even though I let her pick the place...Which I was sort of regretting at this point. I mean a bowling alley is fine if it's on a **better **side of town and not at a location where I fear looking up from the fucking table. Seriously, after I walked in I went straight to the concession stand, ordered the pretzel I was still "eating", got a drink, and asked for a sundae to be brought to the table.

Speaking of which I was still waiting for the fucking thing...Lousy service.

Anyway I hadn't glanced up since, I just kept playing with my phone and poking the rock hard pretzel with a fork. I know it's on a shitty side of the city but can't they at least get fucking food that doesn't make the health inspector piss himself?

"That guy was hitting on you."

"No way! She didn't say that!"

"Come on and take the fucking ball already!"

I finally found the courage to take my eyes off the frightening pretzel (which was possibly scarier than the guys that might think I was looking at their girlfriends the wrong way) and turned to see what all the commotion was behind me. Eh like usual it was nothing new. Same shit I see at school. People talking and stuff like that...Yeah I'll admit it made me a little jealous. Because God knows I needed to get friends, currently all I had was a few random messages from Dave and he didn't count.

"Uhn...!"

I managed to cut myself off when turning back to my table. Not because I was afraid to talk to myself out in public. I mean now days people just think you're on a frickin' blue tooth...But I kind of had to this time or Mindy would have called me a "creepy fucking freak" or something.

I don't think she noticed that I was about to start a conversation with myself though. No, she couldn't have considering she had just stepped through the door and was still looking around for me.

I allowed a few chuckles though before she spotted me. It was fucking weird seeing her out of her Hit-Girl costume, I almost didn't recognize her and kind of expected her to show up in it. That seemed more likely than the image I had thought of last night anyway.

For some reason I had thought it might be like a scene in one of those gay romantic comedy movies. Like she'd walk in as Mindy Mcready, no sign of being Hit-Girl yet sparks and a flag would pop up behind her and only I'd know it was her. In reality it was more like I recognized her after the whole incident at school where a crowd gathered to watch her help Dave get his big ass hair unstuck from his locker.

"H-Hey..."

I gave a little wave as she practically crashed into the seat across from me. Like she was trying to stomp with her ass or something. It was really weird, not so much the ass stomping thing, but that she walked up to me so casually. All calm and shit...Then again she was still Hit-Girl underneath. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

Nah, I could afford to be a little surprised. This was **the** masked vigilante everybody remembered kicking ass on the internet and now she was sitting a couple feet away from me...Looking like a regular cute little girl. Just a normal kid that didn't look nearly as tough, not even tough like she was at school either. Of course you kind of had to be at that school.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Ok maybe not. She was still a bad ass...Great, just fucking great. Not only was that going to make this goal all the more difficult but she was so fucking intimidating that I wasn't sure what to say.

Maybe "I'm sorry your dad looks like a potato chip" or something about my dad fucking up her life?

"I'm not up to anything."

Naturally I spew that shit out. No, that's not suspicious at all!

"That doesn't answer my question." She crossed her arms, giving me this freaky glare.

"What I mean is I don't want you to think I'm like my dad. I wanna do this to really help you, I'm not trying to trick you or any shit like that. I don't want to be enemies with you."

"Why does it fucking matter if...?"

"Because if my dad hadn't been a dick you could've had a normal life and would still have your dad."

The new glare she was giving was even more disturbing than the one before it...Hell it may have been more creepy than the pretzel! I couldn't really blame her though. I was bringing up crap she probably didn't want to think about, not to mention I cut her off from talking. Was that enough to make her slit my throat and leave me in a garbage can?

"I-I fucked up with you and Dave but I wanna give the hero thing another try. Dave still messages me and we talk some..."

"Look," she adjusted her posture though all I could notice was that interrupting her wasn't enough to make her kill, just makes her interrupt you back, "Dave might forgive you cause you're his little emo hero fuck buddy."

"I'm not..."

"So you can fight crime and "save the world" with him...I'm only doing this so my new guardian will get off my fucking case about being "normal"."

I would have tried to correct her about the whole "emo hero fuck buddy" comment again but why bother? Now that I knew she would just keep stopping me it didn't matter. That and I couldn't afford to start an argument. She was agreeing to do this and starting up with that would fuck things up worse.

"I..."

Ok so I couldn't let the comment go so easily but maybe fate was trying to tell me to shut the fuck up by sending the "waiter" over with the sundae. What the fuck? It took a hour to put some ice cream in a Goddamn bowl? Next time I'm picking the meeting place and it'll have better service, and a nicer atmosphere, and maybe a police department within walking distance.

"So are you going to teach me about makeup and shit?" She didn't hesitate to pull the bowl over to her side of the table, immediately stabbing into it with a spoon. Heh, I guess it's good that I ordered it for her anyway...Not that I was going to tell her that. I didn't want to be washing ice cream out of my hair for the next week or getting that spoon surgically removed from...a bad place.

"Sure." I smiled.

"So why do girls wear that crap anyway?" She stuffed her mouth.

"It's so that when they eat pizza and ice cream they don't have zits covering your forehead-their forehead."

I couldn't handle not teasing her even if it meant my downfall in the parking lot. Thankfully she took it as a joke though even before I assured her that her skin was flawless. Hell it even made her laugh with me.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Again thank you for the reviews! Please keep 'em coming!^^**

**WARNING: The rating will go up in later chapters so please keep that in mind if you don't like "M" rated stories. **

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Four: Lipstick**

Four words: makeup training is shit.

I had been staring at myself in the mirror for God knows how long. Somehow finding the ability to space out about half way through and not look at the crap that was caked onto my face. The only screwed up part is that those four fucking words just kept running through my head the entire time.

"Nhh...Fuck this."

I finally snapped from the daze when seeing how fucking crappy I had made the blush look. I wasn't trying to be a perfectionist or even make it look "good" if you can even call it that. But I was supposed to be practicing and if it didn't look any better the next time Chris saw me then he'd think I was fucking him over.

And at this point I wanted to.

I grabbed the towel from my desk, wiping the powder off or rather smearing it until I could feel my skin again. Ah it blended so frickin' nicely with the other shit that was still stained from my prior attempts this past week.

My prior attempts A.K.A. my fuck ups that were my actual reasons for wanting to quit and tell Chris to go fuck himself. He said he couldn't blame me for wanting to give up, but that was after I went to school with that blue eyeshadow that made me look like a whore. At first he lied and said it didn't look bad...Then started laughing like the prick he is until I punched him in arm.

Fucking cunt.

I threw the towel on my bed after giving up on that "rogue" shit, my chair giving it's usual creek as I spun to check my Myspace. Hell even **reading **the jacked up requests from people was better than thinking about all the lovely hooker comments I got at school...Or thinking about how I hadn't been able to go out to do anything fun since I started training.

"What the fuck do you want now?"

I scrolled down when seeing the blinking red message alert and new nerdy picture that rivaled Dave's. Actually I think it was possibly worse what with its bad editing of his car in the background and "flowing" cape. Red Mist, you fucking geek.

Still I clicked on it.

Hit-Girl,

Sorry about Wednesday. I didn't think you were seriously going to wear it to school. When I dropped the shit off I told Marcus to tell you to only wear it around me so I could give you pointers. I guess he didn't tell you. Anyway are you practicing with the blush? At least an hour, remember?

-Red Mist

So I basically punched him for no apparent reason? No, he deserved it for being an ass. Definitely not as much as Marcus apparently was but an ass nonetheless.

I sighed, quickly responding to the message with a "yes". Yeah it was a lie but I couldn't fucking stand that shit on my face anymore. I couldn't even sweat through it and if I planned to sneak out tonight then something had to give. Not like Chris would know anyway.

Again my chair creaked as I anxiously turned around to retrieve my costume from under my dresser. The crappy feelings kind of lessening when I pulled my bulletproof vest out.

"Fucking Marcus..."

I slipped my shirt off, replacing it with the vest and my jacket. Again the pain was slightly dulled. Putting on my garb usually helped it...Although it didn't help as much as it used to. Especially not after getting that shitty message. What the fuck was wrong with Marcus? Wasn't it bad enough that he constantly dropped "subtle" hints about me acting my age and trying to change me? Now he didn't even tell me what Chris said...He should be fucking grateful that I'm doing this at all.

Within a matter of minutes I tied my hair up, adjusted my mask, and plopped my wig on. My gloves, belt, and the rest quickly following before I hurriedly jumped from my bedroom window.

Sometimes, I kind of wished I hadn't been so preoccupied and anxious to get out of there...If I hadn't maybe I would have seen that reply Red Mist sent. The one that said "Liar". Cocky dick head.

...Eh, I only say "kind of" because that rush of freedom is like fucking cocain. Seriously, you can't get enough of it and when it runs out you feel like killing yourself. And believe me after being confined to that fucking house and to Marcus all week, I needed it.

"Douche wad."

I mumbled after getting a few blocks away, slipping into an alley to put on my knuckle dusters. Damn it felt good, almost making his shit worth it...Ok, I can't give fighting and sneaking around full credit...As fucked up as it was I had to give Chris props too...He was helping me after all and even though he was putting me through Hell with the makeup and shit he wasn't trying to change me. If anything he wanted me to have "fun" as he put it...Well this is what's fucking fun.

A smirk instantly slid across my lips when I heard some lady screaming her head off out of the fucking blue. My feet hurting when realizing I had instinctively started running towards the source. Heh, a week off hadn't slowed me down at all. Not that I thought it would.

"Fucking let go you bitch!"

I stopped at the entrance to some kind of condemned liquor store. How fucking cliche can a purse snatcher get besides **being **a purse snatcher?

"Stop it!" She managed to land a decent punch into his shoulder.

"Or what, Cunt?" He knocked her head into the side of the building.

"Or I'll cut off your nuts and make you eat them, Cock Sucker."

They both turned in surprise. I'm not sure if it was because of a reflex, what I said, or because I giggled when saying it.

"Fuck off, Kid."

The surprise was over. He went back to harassing, she went back to crying, and I quickly headed over to stop both of them.

"She said to stop, Asshole." I stood behind him.

"And I told you to fuck off, you fucking brat!" He didn't bother to turn, bad move.

"Well," I jammed my butterfly knife directly into his spine which I guess shocked him because he stopped, "this brat is going to fuck you up."

It only took a twist of the wrist before several cracks were heard. Music to my ears. The woman's apparently too since she didn't seemed stunned that he was down on his knees being held up by a little girl. Maybe she had seen me on the internet? I didn't know and I didn't care. All I did care about was how fucking funny it was when the crazy bitch started kicking him in the nuts.

"Prick! You deserve worse than this!" She tightened the grip on her bag, stomping off in hurry.

Worse? I fucking severed the bastard's spine, lady! He isn't even dead yet...Will be shortly but not yet.

"Stop bleeding all over my knife. Fucking rude, Jackass." I slowly removed it, wiping the blood off on his shirt. Not like he'd be needing it anytime soon.

"Shouldn't you be playing with rogue?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised and unfortunately I made it obvious when I turned around in a lame battle-ready pose. My nerves and gay posture instantly relaxing when seeing Red Mist leaning against the side of the building.

I smirked, "Didn't I ever tell you that I never play?"

He only gave me that dorky smile of his, flicking his wig to usher me to come over. Naturally I didn't plan to obey. I mean he had caught me in the act and looking all fucking innocent wouldn't work on him like it did with Marcus. Of course running away wouldn't work either and I'd look more like a pussy.

"How did you know that I left?" I tucked my weapon away, calmly approaching him.

"Not that hard," he started walking away, almost making me following alongside, "to figure out. I drove by your house to see if you wanted to hang and saw your light off."

"So?" I smiled.

He glanced down at me, "So I know you're not in bed at midnight and not doing your makeup since I was replying on my phone while you crawled out your window."

"Douche bag." I laughed.

"Min...Hit-Girl, your dad isn't going to letup until he thinks you're trying."

He stopped after getting ahead of me, turning to calmly stare me down. Crossing his arms and adjusting his stance as though trying to intimidate me or some shit. In reality all it did was give me a nice look at his junk.

"You really need to get looser pants, dumb ass."

"Ah!" He suddenly jumped, tugging on the crotch of his pants before flinging his cape around to "censor" himself. Like it's something I've never seen before, right?

"Would you fucking relax?" I giggled.

"You're eleven, I don't wanna show..."

"I meant about Marcus," I sighed,"shit for brains. Besides if I just wear a little while I'm around him I'll be fine."

He blushed, "Right. But he'll notice you aren't getting any better, Genius." He finally let go of his cape, trying to act like he wasn't embarrassed.

"It'll be fine, Cu..."

For once it wasn't him cutting me off like at the bowling alley. Instead it was this group of like five of the gayest "thugs" I've ever seen in my life. Honestly, they looked like fags with their shitty switchblades and trying to walk in step. I think even Chris wanted to laugh when he turned around to watch them.

"Th fuck?" He mumbled.

"Well if it isn't the Red Tampon and Purple Whore." One of the bald guys laughed.

"Oh if it isn't Mr. Clean reminding me to polish my dildo."

Christopher slowly turned to give this combined look of "shut the fuck up before I get shanked" and "did you really just say that? Seriously?". What? He wasn't used to it by now?

"You've got a big mouth, bitch. You should try sucking my cock...We're not one of those little pussy gangs you're used to."

"Stupid cunts." I giggled, blinking before looking up. "Wanna double team them, Red Mist?"

"S-Sure."

I let out a disgusted sigh. Goddamn he sucked at acting. I know he had never actually done anything "heroic" since all that bullshit with Dave was a hoax but he couldn't try to give some confidence to that line? Fuck. Also fuck me for asking him, I made it clear that I wanted him to work with Kick-Ass...Oh well I'd least I'd get to know my enemies moves even if he thought this was some kind of invite to join forces.

"Shall we?"

I whispered before lunging at what these pussies considered their leader. Landing a nice little punch directly into his throat. What could he expect? He had a fucking target symbol tattooed there! To answer my own question he must've expected a lot less out of me since he fell over in convulsions.

"Well that was a fucking letdown. Hope the rest of you can do better." I turned momentarily to see if Chris was ok. Shockingly, he...was.

I've gotta admit that surprised me even after I spun back to face the two that weren't attacking him. How he was managing to hold up without pulling his gun I'll never know.

"Two against one. You guys must really fucking suck." I laughed as one tried to grab my arm, missing by over a foot. His buddy following up by coming at me straight on with his gay little blade.

"What are you...?"

Again I wasn't cut off by Chris or even a gang of douches...Instead I stopped myself when feeling my cape being pulled backwards, my arms being crushed when the guy who "accidentally" missed me the first time held his arms over mine.

"Cock sucker." I squirmed, kicking in a sad attempt to be freed.

"Get the little slut!" He called out to other fuck face who was now preparing to slice my throat. I've never felt more like a helpless bitch.

Ok, screw that. I'd never felt more like a bitch than when I heard the gunshot go off. The "fuck face" falling to ground, dead as a fucking doornail, and Christopher standing there with one hand on his hip. Most retarded hero pose ever!

"You fucking..." He let go of his grip on me, my body ducking to avoid the second shot that took him out.

"Huuu..." I panted quietly, darting my head around to look at the damage. One dead by punch to the throat, one due to stabbing, one still barely twitching, and two by gunshot. Fucking beautiful.

"You ok?"

I looked up to see his hand extended out to me. Of course I didn't take it.

"Yeah. You?" I nodded, standing to brush my cape off.

"Yeah." He smiled. Obviously trying to ignore the blood that was dripping from his lip.

"You su..."

"Lets go...sit..." He coughed, walking as fast as he could to collapse against a bunch of handrails that led up to another broken down building.

I would've called him out on the whole cutting me off again thing but instead I opted to join him.

"Not used to this I see." I slouched next to him.

"Not really...Fuck this outfit is hot." He choked.

"Don't wear leather than, dumb ass." I laughed, leaning my head back against one of the rails.

"Shut up at least it looks cool."

"Yeah well makeup is supposed to look cool but it's fucking hot...That's why I'm not wearing it anymore." I have to admit it was easier to talk about that shit when the adrenalin was pumping.

"You just haven't found a kind you like yet...Try lipstick."

I instantly turned my head, preparing to bitch him out about how oily and nasty feeling it was but he decided to stop me before I could start.

"Here." He smeared the blood from his mouth, gently pressing his gloved hand over my lips to paint them a rather tasty shade of red.

I guess I've seen too many cliche movies or heard too many girls talk about fantasies because at this moment I was expecting him to say a stupid line about how pretty I looked...Rather than leaving me with a smile before pulling himself up to go find his car.

I finally touched my mouth after he was out of sight. Thinking of how pathetic it would have sounded if he had said something cheesy.

...Ok fine, I fucking wanted him to say it, alright?

**

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****A/N: Please leave a review. ^^ Sorry it was so long.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I appreciate it! ^^ Please enjoy this chapter. And thanks to my boyfriend Miles for coming up with the "maid incident".**

**WARNING: The rating has gone up to "M". Just so you know.**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Five: Wishful**

Why is it that nothing can be like it is in the comic books? I don't mean laser beam eyes, turning invisible, or shooting fire from your hands...Because that shit's probably already available in Japan. I mean like stuff that looks easy in books but then it takes like a million years to learn how to do it. And then to add to the fact that it's hard, you meet someone who is already a pro at it, and they make it look easy...So you try to climb up the side of a building and end up falling off after getting two feet off the fucking ground.

Ok maybe that's just me.

I finally gave up after the fifth time trying to scale up the grappling hook to my room. Which was a retarded idea anyway since my room is apart of the penthouse...On the top floor. I guess when I threw the cape back on I completely forgot I still couldn't do that shit.

"Ugh..."

I managed to drag myself to the front door, standing there for a minute before having another realization. We didn't have a doorman anymore thanks to Mindy blowing his cheek and head apart. Nice. I shook my head, slid my activation card, and tugged it open.

"Evening guys."

I laughed from exhaustion while heading into the elevator. My fingers feeling like they'd break if I touched the buttons, but I dealt with the pain.

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Now? Yay, we're here. Well me anyway.

I slowly emerged from the elevator, dragging my feet as best I could, lest they detach themselves and crawl away.

"Mom?"

I called out to her already knowing she wasn't going to respond. She never had before the heavy drinking so why would she when she was beyond hammered in her room? If anything she'd run out thinking I was my dad again then hit me with a bottle of vodka. That left a scar too but even after I told her that she just cried then drank some more.

"Nice to see you too, Mom. My night was fucking epic, I beat these dudes senseless and got to use that gun Dad left me. How was your night?"

I whispered while passing her bedroom which was "disguised" as part of the library wall. No, the obviously plastic books weren't a dead giveaway or anything. My dad wasn't smart when he designed this place. Come to think of it he wasn't very smart at all but I digress.

"Ah."

I smiled when shutting the door behind me, my bed calling out my name like it begged for me to be in it. Fucking perverted sheets, man. And despite the possibility that my pillows might molest me I wanted to jump in.

"Oh fuck."

I lifted my arms, bad move. I thought this costume reeked before but now it was like ten times worse from the new sweat. Sorry bed, your lover needs to shower first.

But before I could do that I had to do the worst thing associated with the outfit. Peeling it off.

"Ow, ow, ow, fucking fuck!"

I unzipped my pants, ripping them down my legs as fast as I could, my boxers going along with them. Heaving a quick sigh of relief before I unsnapped the shin guards and kicked my boots off into the corner. It was like fifty times cooler just with that off and more importantly my balls could breathe!

I stumbled towards the bathroom, tossing my wig and taking off the remainder of the shit along the way. Let me just say that after every fight and training session in that oven of a costume, I considered joining a nudist colony.

I made my way across the tile and adjusted the knobs of the shower. My mom must have used all the hot water cause it was fucking freezing. No way I was getting in until I was sure my balls wouldn't shrink to oblivion.

"Thanks Mommy."

I leaned back against the counter, watching the water run for a few minutes.

"Ahh.."

I groaned while turning away from the oh so fascinating spray to look in the mirror. Seeing the huge bruise that took up most of my upper arm. Damn it hurt like Hell. I guess even after all that training I did the last three months I still bruised easily...That or it was because Mindy punched me at school then I got into the shit tonight. I lived though, right?

"Are you ready yet?"

I spun around to test the water, unable to stop myself from nearly pouncing in when feeling how nice and hot it was. Oh it was like an orgasm when it ran over my arm...Granted I've never had one...or given one...But I did have my left hand and I planned to use it.

"Ah..."

I laughed when grasping myself. It was fucking amazing how I could practically have a heatstroke, get in a fight that could've killed me, be so exhausted that I could barely press a button, and yet find the strength to jerk off. What a beautiful skill.

"Ah...Ah..."

I slowly moved up and down, relaxing my forehead against the wall to keep balance from my damn hips twitching. Why did sexual frustration have to suck so much? Well maybe if it sucked I wouldn't be so goddamn frustrated!

"Min..."

I closed my eyes even tighter when thinking back to that thing I did by the railing. Yet another thing I managed to get away with and still touch myself...And no, it wasn't exactly the right thing to think about at this moment for obvious reasons. But mostly not right because I wasn't sure why I even did it. To be cute? To teach her? Not really...Maybe I did it because she looked so cute...

"M-Mindy...Ah...Mindy..."

Fuck, this was so wrong. Fucked up in every sense, but it didn't stop me from moving faster every time I thought of her sweet little smile. Moving even faster than that whenever I moaned her name.

"Ah Mindy...Mindy, I want you..."

My hips finally stopped twitching when my whole body decided to flinch against the wall. Almost moving in these weird rapid convulsions that I have to admit scared me at first. At least until my mind stopped caring and started focusing on how incredible it felt. Or rather it started trying to justify the situation.

And honestly, I started to believe the reasons I was coming up with. Telling myself she was very mature for her age and that we had a lot in common as far as our family lives were concerned . Especially that second one. After all both of us had made an effort our entire lives to please our fathers no matter what the cost. The only difference was that she wasn't a huge fuckup to her dad. I could never make mine happy even after he was dead.

"Mindy..I..."

I reopened my eyes while I casually turned my head, expecting to see my reflection in the mirror across from the shower. Oh how I wish I would have seen myself as opposed to our bright red maid that stood motionless with a handful of fresh towels.

"I...Uh.." I immediately released myself, like that would erase her memories or something. My cheeks growing even more red than hers as I wondered how long she'd been standing there.

"I apologize Senor Chris!"

I was taken back while struggling to figure out whether there was more terror or embarrassment in her voice. Either way it didn't matter considering I didn't have time to decide which it was. That woman dropped those towels on the counter and was out the door so fast it was like she was the fucking Flash, man.

"S-Sorry! I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"I understand Senor Chris!"

Ok that time it was good old fashion embarrassment. Not from her, but from me. She sounded more like she wished she'd had her phone with a high resolution camera! I just wished that I was dead...Alright not yet.

No, when I finally got done washing myself off and found the courage to crawl out of the bathroom, that's when I knew I seriously wanted to die. Sure, the maid was gone but there was a new urgent message blinking from my computer.

Red Mist,

I started my period. Hoo-Fucking-Ray.

-Hit-Girl

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and incase you're wondering it is possible to start your period even before eleven. I should know. TMI I know. Please review. ^^**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! It really helps me continue you guys. ^^ Also Stephanieeeftw asked how old Chris is in this story and the answer is eighteen. Please enjoy this chapter and keep those reviews coming. **

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Six: Mirror**

I did it partly to fuck with him and partly because it was true...Mostly the fuck with him thing.

I quickly reread the reply he had **finally** decided to send before pushing away from the computer. Honestly, did he really need to wait two days to fucking send me a message? Even a "I don't need to think about your bleeding cunt" or "That's fucking nasty, Mindy" would have worked.

...Heh, that was another reason why I told him. He deserved to be grossed out...Hey he started this whole childhood bullshit, he brought this upon himself.

I glanced back one more time before hopping off that still irritating chair. Oh I'd love to shoot that motherfucker repeatedly so Marcus would buy me a new one. Yeah, buy me a new one then try to murder me in my sleep for shooting in the first fucking place.

I sighed as I ravaged through my drawers for a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. Maybe I shouldn't complain so much about Marcus but it's hard not to when he's such a douche half the time. Ok more like thirty percent but it's still annoying when he is.

I finally pulled out that pink top Daddy had gotten for me. Thank God it wasn't one of those tight I'm-A-Slut-Look-At-My-Tits shirts with the words on them that Marcus practically begged me to wear. Luckily I didn't have to wear any of the short skirts he bought either since I discovered my last clean pair of pants in the bottom drawer.

Again I shouldn't whine about **him**...After all he was going out more often since I started using eyeliner whenever he was around. He's too fucking trustworthy for his own good, that or he's been getting some good pussy.

"Ughh..."

I groaned while buttoning my jeans. Fucking cramps hurt like a bitch! And it wasn't like I could go back to bed and pretend like it didn't feel like my uterus would fall out at any second. No, I had to go out shopping with frickin' Christopher today because Lord knows he can't go get me some tampons by his own damn self.

"I'm going to punch you until your stomach hurts as bad as mine, Fuck Face."

I giggled as I finished getting myself ready. Christopher D'amico was another guy I probably shouldn't complain about as much as I do but, like Marcus, he deserved it. I mean for God's sake the douche offers to buy me tampons two fucking days after I tell him I started my period! Oh yeah I'm going to fucking torture him.

"...Have to say you're coming over this morning, no fucking forewarning, I swear..."

I mumbled before hearing the car horn out front. Did he have another car or was he actually stupid enough to bring the Mist Mobile? Probably that second one.

The stairs creaked as bad as my chair while I hurriedly walked down them, skipping to head out the front door. And of course with every bounce I couldn't help but notice the lovely little twitches my stomach was forced to endure. This sucked more nuts than Katie.

"Hi." I was expecting to see a cloud of mist fogging up the area and the sound of sirens from some ass who thought it was a fire when I turned from locking the door. Nope. Instead it was this really nice BMW with the radio blaring so loud he obviously didn't hear my greeting.

I quickly made my way to the passenger's side, opening the door to hear some "I'm a rich kid who was never loved by my daddy" song screaming from the speakers. Seriously, he needed to pay someone to build a bridge so he could get the fuck over it.

"Hey."

I guess he switched the radio off as I sat down. I have no idea, I was too busy sniffing that sweet scent of leather and this other weird smell that seemed kinda familiar. I think it was Chris's cologne. Maybe he wore it when he dressed as Red Mist or something? Eh, it didn't matter. Whatever it was it didn't match the eyesore orange colored shirt he was wearing. Against the black interior it looked like he was a Halloween mascot gone totally gay.

"Hi."

I finally responded when getting my seatbelt adjusted, the car speeding off the minute the buckle clicked.

"Feeling any better?"

"Hell no." I smirked.

He turned from the road to shoot me a quick glance and flash that nerdy smile before looking forward again. Oh he thought he was so fucking cool and relaxed. Did he forget that his was wearing a short sleeved orange...thing and his bruises were showing? He wouldn't be so calm if I were to poke them and I really wanted to. Regardless if I did or not though he'd be losing his cool soon enough. Just wait until he gets a load of the "feminine care products" and starts crying in the corner.

"So did Marcus flip out that his baby is growing up?" He coughed.

"I'm not a baby, especially not his, and no."

He laughed, "You're not a baby?"

"No...You've all people should know that or do you get some sick fucking kicks about shooting a baby though a window?"

I laughed as he almost choked on his own spit. I'm not sure if he was trying to laugh along or not, but it was fucking funny seeing his face turn red. I sort of took it as an apology in some way.

"So, do anything interesting this week?" I broke the silence that had followed soon after his cheeks matched his Red Mist costume.

"N-Not really."

What was up with the stuttering? I know he's in the top five most geekiest males on the face of planet Earth but can't he do one thing "nonnerdy"? He must have a huge cock to balance out the fact that no girl will have him and his nasally self.

"We're here."

He sighed as we pulled into the store's parking lot. More following as he obviously braced himself for in inevitable humiliation that was waiting for him. Smart boy cause as soon as we got into that certain aisle my theory proved itself to be right.

Cool, calm, collected Chris took a fucking vacation and comic book dork Chris was reborn. I mean I'm not even sure if I can describe how pathetic he looked. His face was so red that it put the blood in my underwear to shame and it only got worse when he gave this little gasp snort combination that made me giggle.

And of course I had to test if he'd stop breathing all together.

"Check it out, Chris! They come in different colors!"

"M-Mindy," nope he was still hyperventilating, "please just get...whatever so we can go." He rubbed his eyes as though they burned.

"Oh don't be shy. Would you feel better if I picked out a training bra first?"

It was at this moment I realized my dad had planned Frank's downfall the wrong way his entire life. All those years of plotting and killing stupid goons had turned out to be pointless. The only thing he would have had to do is send me in to ask that question...Because Chris looked like he was on the verge of fucking death.

"I-I don't think that's a good idea, Mindy."

I couldn't hold back my giggles. Why was it so much fun to tease him? And why did he have to look so cute when he was embarrassed? If anything that encouraged me to keep doing it...and I did.

"Come on."

I grabbed his hand, literally having to drag him to the "lingerie" department.

"Calm down, Chris. It's nothing you haven't imagined taking off of those girls you've watched on the porn sites."

Of course as of now all he could do was mumble some random shit about not wanting to be there and wanting to kill himself while I picked a few out. And he went on to rant about it in further detail until I told him to shut the fuck up and wait outside the dressing room for me. What a dumb ass.

...Alright even I'll admit I'm the one who kinda turned out to be the dumb ass. I guess it was that fucking karma shit catching up to me or something cause what happened next made me agree with Chris's "kill myself" plan.

What happened? The fucking clasp in the back of the bra got stuck and decided to be a douche by tightening around me whenever I reached back to try and undo it.

"Shit...Goddamn it...," I snarled before settling with what I knew was more karma bullshit, "Christopher, get in here!"

For a minute I thought I had really killed him because all I heard was a crash from that unsold thong rack and then silence.

"Chris?"

"Haha very funny, Mindy." He was still alive and actually sounded a little less nervous this time around. He thought I was kidding and didn't know I knew he was playing with women's underwear, huh?

"I'm fucking serious! If you wanna keep your balls, you'd better do it." I yelled.

"Fuck not so loud." He waited directly outside the door. "...I-I'll do it but shut your fucking mouth before the sales chick comes back."

"You must really value your nuts."

I laughed while watching him in the mirror...and I'm glad I did or I would've missed the weirdest thing. After he opened the door, he didn't bother to close it right away...He kind of just stood there staring at me and that's not even what was weird...Well it was but I more so meant that after I saw him I fucking blushed. The hell, man?

"What?" I hesitated.

"Nothing." He slammed the door, turning back to look at it like it wouldn't echo if he did.

"Ok well fucking help me." I pointed to the clasp.

"You want me to...I.."

"Just fucking undo..."

Even now I can't figure out why I felt the need to stop myself when I felt his fingers against my back or why my knees wanted to cave underneath me. It makes me sound so fucking weak or cheesy but damn...Damn.

"It's **really **stuck. The hook is warped or some shit."

Again I didn't want to say anything and he must not have noticed because he went right back to tugging the fucked up prongs. As for me all I could do was trade embarrassment with him and watch his reflection. How much more screwed up could this get?

Ok it got fucking worse. Well only for him though cause not only was he still struggling with the hook but making it increasingly apparent that he had **never **done this before. Poor virgin boy...And that's not even a fucking joke...I actually felt kind of bad.

"I'm nervous too, you know?" I finally spoke, making him jump to look in the mirror...Hell it almost made me jump that I was saying this crap. "Tampons, bras, makeup, and shit...It's not my thing." I forced myself to laugh.

...I hate to sound fucking repetitive or dramatic or whatever but I gave him a smile that was partly to fuck with him and partly because I was nervous...Really, really fucking nervous. Especially when the cocksucker...When Christopher kissed my back.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing...?"

Shit that sounded so much less threatening than it did in my head. Well obviously it fucking did cause it didn't deter him from dragging his lip over my shoulder blade and onto the back of my neck.

"Mindy."

He whispered my name before forcing his weight against me, my hands and head leaning into the mirror while I tried to keep my balance.

"C-Chris..." I blushed. What the fuck was wrong with me?

"I...I..." He went on as I felt the bra straps slip off my shoulders when the hook was undone. "Want you."

To be honest I'm not sure what happened after that...I remember hearing him whisper to me, feeling his hands hold my hips, and even hearing myself sound like one of those desperate whores at school as I basically begged him to fuck me. But he didn't. After I asked him to he suddenly looked at me in the mirror then at himself...Then left. Just fucking left.

What the fuck?

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**A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry it's long. Please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Please enjoy this chapter.**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Seven: Friends**

So picture this: I'm sitting on a bench in the school's locker room, all the rest of the guys leaving for lunch, I'm calm and cool...Then it all goes black and white, the music from Psycho starts, the lockers start slamming by themselves, and **BAM **a knife meets my balls.

...Ok so that hasn't happened yet but in my mind I already knew it would. I knew it since that stupid fucking thing I did in the dressing room, since the weekend past, and I still fucking know that it will! Today has been going too good for my nuts to not suffer the consequences.

...I'm sure most people think I'm being too dramatic or overly paranoid with my old horror movie visual...The scary thing is that I'm actually not exaggerating too much this time. I really was sitting alone in the locker room, everyone else gone, and praying to God that Mindy's "Blade Of Justice" wouldn't nail me at any second. And lets be honest, that is not farfetched.

No, not too "out there" at all since I heard a frickin' locker slam while I was pulling my clothes out of mine. I realize it probably wasn't caused by a pint-sized mercenary with an ache for bloodlust but I'm sure it wasn't a janitor either.

"God if you let me live, I'll stop downloading the free porn...Only the credit card ones from now on."

Again, I understand that it more-than-likely wasn't **her **but hey I go to a school that requires fucking metal detectors just to get in and even I know that I'm considered the "rich kid". The rich dork standing there with my nice clothes in hand and no weapon.

"Oh God." I could hear footsteps coming closer. I was gonna get cut, huh?

"Just take the fucking shirt! I'd look better on you anyway!"

So yeah I've never felt more like a fucking retard or a pussy. Even when the maid walked in on me jerking off couldn't compare to me nearly pissing myself when seeing a shadow come around the corner...and Dave peeking around to cock an eyebrow...Followed by laughing at me.

"I don't think it'll fit, Chris."

"STFU." Oh yeah that helped me look less gay.

"D-Did you think I was gonna mug you?"

I shoved the shirt back into my locker, glancing over at him before turning back to dig for my water bottle.

"With all the times you've had some asshole jump you and you ask that?" I pulled the empty bottle out...Well this seemingly good day just turned to shit.

He shrugged, "I just came back to get my books, you don't need to be so fucking jumpy."

"Doesn't your hair have a date with a hinge, "Jewper Hero"?" I threw the bottle back in.

I don't even remember what he said after that or rather didn't say. It was all a bunch of mumbles and his arms moving up and down before he slammed the locker room door closed. Leaving me alone again to have a guilt trip and wait for death.

Obviously he didn't mean to leave me feeling like shit since he was trying to be friendly but in my own defense he was screwing up my day. It's not that I hate him or that we're enemies or some stupid shit like that...But if he would have kept talking I couldn't concentrate on the real reason I like to be the last to leave. Sure, getting dressed last is nice since noone will take my clothes while I'm changing but to be honest the only reason why guys here wanna be last is cause you can hear the girls in their locker room. And yes, I'm one of those "sick pigs" that wants to hear what they talk about.

"I hate him, he's a fucking douche."

"You know he dated her for a few weeks and..."

"Got any tampons?"

Ok, I don't want to listen to that last one or think about anything related to it. Actually, I could give a fuck less about any of the other shit too but occasionally they gossiped about guys they liked...It was never me but I can hope, right?

"Chris D'amico..."

I used to think that cartoon characters were the only ones who slammed their ears against the wall to eavesdrop. That was until my hoping apparently paid off and I couldn't get myself detached from the plaster. Was a girl actually talking about me? Could it be that it wasn't in bad terms? The hell if I know because as soon as she started talking again I heard someone clearing their throat behind me.

"I wasn't doing..." I held my hands up like I had just been busted. Well I sort of had been and by Mindy of all people.

"We can hear you on our side too, Dumb Ass...And no your shirt won't fit Dave."

She tossed her backpack onto the floor, her scruffy pigtails swinging around as she straddled the bench. She was so cute when she wasn't in murderess mode...Come to think of it, why wasn't she? Not that long ago this moment played out in my head and at this point I should've been twitching in agony and begging for a hospital. Instead I was standing in front of casual Mindy who had yet to bring up **that**. Thank God?

"What are you doing in here? This is a guy's locker room." I hesitantly stepped one leg over the bench, copying her position.

"Like I give a fuck. You didn't message me all weekend so I figured it was your special little way of saying "fuck off and die"."

I was surprised to see a weird "pout" face as opposed to her glare of death...I kind of prefer the death one. At least then I would know to write my will rather than sit there with a blank expression.

"I-I didn't mean to ignore you...Um..."

No, this wasn't deja vu of the bowling alley at all...Damn, hadn't I gotten past the awkward silences with her yet? Obviously not since I couldn't think of anything to say that would help. I **was **avoiding her after all but it wasn't because I wanted her to "fuck off and die"...Did she not remember what I almost did to her? I could've hurt her, raped her, or something! Ok maybe not raped since she asked me to but it's still disgusting regardless...No, I can't even really call it disgusting unless I count the part where all I could see was my fucked up dad in my reflection. Great now I don't know what to say **and** I'm hella confused.

"They need to shut the fuck up."

"Huh?" I jumped when seeing her feet swing back and forth.

"The girls next door..." She pointed at the wall.

"Oh right." I had completely forgotten about that and of course that meant that one girl wasn't talking about me anymore.

"They called you a gay dork wad. Which you are but they should be fucking nice."

"Well you know a lot of them are a bunch of clique bitches who don't mean shit...Hey wait a second!" I could feel my face flush.

"Heh," she smiled,"you're such a geek...You can't really say that cliques don't fucking matter though."

"They don't, Min..."

"When you have friends they don't."

She leaned forward, finally taking her eyes off me to stare at one of the motivational posters on the wall. I have to admit it was both nice and disturbing to see her like that...She seemed like she was trying to open up to me but at the same time she kinda sounded pissed. Or more like she was avoiding something...Of course we all know what that was.

"You have me."

Her screwy pigtails swished when she instantly looked back to me, her casual look returning.

"A-And Dave!" I scratched the back of my head.

She laughed,"I don't get you, you act like you wanna teach me about **other** things but you never do...It pisses me off, you know?"

"Hey I just taught you about the unimportance of turning into a stuck up bitch and pretending to be something you're not...And no that doesn't mean like you wearing makeup to fool Marcus, alright?"

"...You know that's not what I meant..."

I pretended to not hear her because what could I say? I was already confused about all that and I really didn't want to talk about it with an eleven-year-old who probably didn't understand it in any sense...Maybe that was me who didn't but again I couldn't tell her anything. "Mindy, for some reason I wanna sleep with you", "Mindy, I don't want to end up like my father", "Mindy, will you please say something else and change the conversation"? I couldn't say any of that!

"So are we done with the childhood shit then or do you still want to teach me?"

"I still want to..." Did she read my thoughts? "I could teach you about fixing your hair because to be honest it needs it." I carefully grabbed her pigtail.

"Is that all?" She glared.

"No...Come over to my place tonight, ok?"

...I know after I said that she reassured me she'd be there at eight but I realized she'd probably be late...And I know I was completely wrong about the whole Psycho scenario earlier but I was positive that tonight would be way more fucked up.

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**A/N: Sorry it's kind of long. I'm sorry for the mistakes but I'm tired. Please review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and messages! I really appreciate it! ^^ Please enjoy this chapter and be warned it's a little graphic. **

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Eight: Teacher**

I probably should have been more grateful that I didn't have to act like a fucking ninja to get into the D'amico building...Unlike last time when those douche rags tried to stop me at the front door and in the library. But that was also what made it so fun and not frickin' creepy like it was right now. Seriously, there wasn't even a new doorman with a bat waiting in the lobby to do a lame fight scene, a clerk to pull a glock, there wasn't even a frightened maid in the corner! What a bad host you are, Christopher.

I pulled the front door open before kicking the doorstop across the floor, watching it hit the empty desk as I headed over to the elevator. Damn, it was really boring without the "bad" guys...Ok it was boring without the skilled bad guys. After all I still had to face Chris and he was still the enemy.

"Penthouse..."

I scanned over the buttons which had most of the lettering rubbed off so it was almost fucking impossible to find the right one. Luckily I remembered which floor it was or I'd probably still be standing there listening to that God awful "ping" sound it made every time it reached the next level. Piece of crap machine and my desk chair should both be taken out to a dark alley and shot...Repeatedly.

"Can't you buy a fucking new one, rich boy?"

I leaned back against the handrail, managing to catch myself being ungrateful for my shitty life again. No...not really **my **life. More like Chris's because even I have to admit I was starting to think he wasn't up to anything. And if he really wasn't trying to kill me or fuck me over then his life was ten times crappier than mine. If anything mine was...I guess "better" because of him even if I didn't have anything useful to learn.

...Fuck, I can't even honestly say to myself I didn't have anything to learn. Because then I wouldn't have any reason to be here...Except for that gay reason that I still kicked myself over: wanting to see the fuck tard.

Finally the last "I'm gonna be an annoying douche" ping rang before the doors opened. Ah just like old times except now I'm slightly less pissed and not really in the mood to strangle a bitch. Maybe shoot but not strangle, too tired.

"Hello?" I made my way through the rows of books which were still pumped with left over holes...They were more organized though. I guess Chris tried to fix up the place or something. God knows he didn't have any more men to do the job.

"In here!"

The one surefire way to find Christopher Dork D'amico: follow the nasally echo.

"Hey." I popped my head around the corner to find him untangling a flatiron in the hall bathroom. Of course there's nothing funny about that, right? Well normally it wouldn't have been but again this the home of the world's most pathetic geek. And his untangling was more of a fight with the cord and the cord was winning.

"Hey," he glanced at his watch,"you're late, Mcready."

"Why don't you try sneaking passed Marcus, D'amico? That is if you're ever freed from the iron that's raping you." I held my hand out.

He glared before looking down at my palm, "Hell no, I don't trust you with hot metal objects...I actually considered doing this at school just so there would be witnesses if you fried my ass."

"Oh Chris," I dropped my hand to my side as I hopped onto the counter, "I would have much rather crisped your little nut sack."

I expected another glare of "shut up, you foul mouth little whore" but instead he rolled his eyes and went back to unknotting the wire. I probably should've warned him to do that **before** plugging it in but I opted to look around for some entertainment while waiting for him to be electrocuted.

Eh, it turned out to be less entertaining than watching him. Nothing but a clock, a shower that looked so fucking clean that it couldn't have possibly been used before, a medicine cabinet, and...a pair of **orange **gloves?

"Why?" I pulled them from the opposite end of the counter.

The limp cord fell as he looked up from his "victory", "Oh, I uh lost my red ones. Those were the only ones they had in stock."

I laughed as I tossed them back, "You're gonna look so hot with a red fucking costume and orange gloves."

"Yeah well," he gently took a section of my hair, pressing it between the iron plates, "I don't think anyone's gonna notice."

"Ow." I winced when he tugged too hard.

"Sorry, my mom's better at this...She could probably teach you how to do your hair better than me too if she weren't hammered."

"...Where is she?" I glanced up at him.

"Drunk in the house somewhere. If you see a woman playing with her foot and talking about a severed toe, don't talk to her." He laughed. "How about yours?"

"Your dad fucked my daddy over so she committed suicide." I swung my legs, kicking the counter bottom.

He pulled the iron out, "Oh...I didn't know that...I mean you never talked about her so...Sorry."

I stopped swinging my legs before the overwhelming urge to "accidentally" kick him became too fucking much. I'll be honest, I don't really give a fuck about my mother...She wasn't even strong enough to live for me or to give birth to me without dying. I never fucking knew her...But for Daddy's sake I would've gladly broken Christopher's shin. Still I refrained or my whole reason for coming here would be for nothing.

"Why do you fuck with me?"

The straightener almost cracked the counter top when Chris dropped it, his fumbling hands managing to adjust it on it's stand before looking over at me...How can a person who's so good with a gun be so fucking clumsy with everything else?

"Huh? I don't fuck with you..." He narrowed his eyes.

"Yes you do...You seemed pissed after all that shit then you suddenly wanna make things better."

He threw his hands up like some whack job cartoon character, "It was a bad day for me. I was already horny and then you're in a bra...I didn't know what I was doing then I realized I looked like my dad...and..."

"I meant the shit with Kick-Ass...When he blew your dad up." I don't know how I managed to hold my laughter back.

"Oh...Oh! No...That...I got over it...My mom was talking about "self help" shit and it got me to thinking about you so I wanted to give you some good memories. That situation with my dad is over, okay?" He blushed.

I'll never know if that was his nerdy little way of apologizing and I could care less if it was. It wouldn't mean anything to me anyway...and it wasn't really what I was focusing on either. Because at this point I was still taking in the gayness of his accidental rant about the fucking dressing room thing...And after retracing what he said I got stuck on his looking like his dad comment. Yes, that probably sounds dramatic and pathetic coming from **me **but I know what it's like to want to impress your fucking father...Even if I don't understand what it's like to be ashamed of resembling him...Obviously Chris had the right to be embarrassed of that. Looking like a bald fuck face drug lord would piss off anybody.

"I know what it's like to wanna please your father but you're not like him, Chris."

He let his mouth fall open before shutting it again, his head twitching in this "double take" motion. And he didn't only do it because of what I said but cause I gently grabbed his fat cheeks and pulled his forehead to mine. Yeah, I thought it was time I make the fucking move.

"You said you wanted to teach me and give me some good..."

I cut myself short when his arms went around me tightly. Both of us freezing for a minute before I returned the gesture and he hesitantly bit my neck. W-Was he seriously waiting for me to give him a frickin' "ok"? Fucking nerd.

And naturally his virgin behavior decided to rear it's ugly head once again when he struggled to get his hands under my shirt. Poor moron, I practically had to reach my own hands behind me to adjust him.

"Ah!" I still consider myself a pussy for flinching but I was genuinely surprised when he unclasped the bra clip and put one of his hands over my tit. Damn it felt weird. Good but weird.

"Mindy."

He traced down my stomach, over the hem of my jeans, and **finally **held his palm over my cunt. I don't know how much more desperate and whoretastic I could've gotten.

"C-Christopher..." Oh wait, moaning like a horny fucking bitch always makes it more slutty...At this point I didn't really care though, I just wanted it.

I felt myself slipping backwards slightly as he pulled my hips up to his, his bulge throbbing through his jeans while he started grinding himself against me. I knew him being a huge geek had to have some kind of payoff...and his big cock proved me right.

"Chris..."

No matter what the situation, teasing him was too much fun and this was no fucking exception. I moaned softly, slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, and lastly landed a nice hard bite onto his Adam's apple...Which he must've liked because he fell forward against me, his legs wobbling underneath him.

"M-Mindy..." He gagged.

"Fuck me."

...Again karma bullshit and his goddamn clumsiness found a way to fuck me over and not in the way I had demanded. Nope, instead of my jeans being ripped apart and a nice rock hard dick pounding into me, I got the button torn off and Chris jumping backwards when his hand landed on the cunting flatiron.

"Oh shit! Shit!"

He quickly spun the cold water knob, which would have felt better if he hadn't used the hand that was burned! Dumb ass...and I couldn't even find the strength to make a joke about it. Yeah, I was that fucking pissed.

"...You're the one that needs teaching...Idiot." I turned to rummage through his medicine cabinet, somehow managing to find medical wraps and ointment amidst the mouthwash bottles filled with scotch. Well I found the lush's stash. Big fucking deal.

"Here." I set the shit down by the sink, "Swab this on lightly once ever hour and change the bandages every time you do...I'm gonna head home." I hopped off the counter and headed out the doorway.

"W-Wait! What about..." He motioned his head for me to get back in the bathroom.

In all seriousness, I don't know if he meant that he wanted to continue the lesson about straightening my hair or his hand...Or about screwing all night...Either way though...

"...I don't think you're ready to give me that lesson."

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry about the mistakes. Please review. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for the hits and reviews. ^^ I'm so happy you guys are enjoying it. **

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Nine: Date**

Another pet peeve I have about comic books is how a character's parent dies and then they go visit their grave to discover some mystical insight about themselves. Yeah, I know it's just to show the reader inner thoughts and shit but when it's happening in real life you learn how unrealistic it is...Because people flying around in capes isn't, right?

Seriously though, as I stood in front of my dad's grave I was waiting for a beam of light to hit me in the head and everything would suddenly make sense. And forty five minutes later I'm still standing there talking to a dirt heap that covered an extremely expensive toe holder. What? All that was left was some random appendages, I **can't **consider that a body! Too bad his mouth wasn't left so maybe I'd actually get a response.

"Hey Dad, how's it...used to be hanging?" I shrugged while looking around. The nice thing about being in a cemetery is that noone looks at you funny when you're talking to yourself. Not that anyone living was here at freakin' eight in the morning.

Well anyone that was **supposed **to be anyway. Why was she always late?

"So I've gotta head over there to meet Mindy, Dad...Nice talking to you."

I realized if there was anybody I hadn't noticed hanging around they wouldn't care if I waved goodbye or not, but I still did. He was still my father even if he ignored me when he was alive...Now it wasn't his choice no matter how much I prayed it was. And believe me I had prayed a lot and still did while walking towards my real destination. I wanted that dramatic, gay, teary-eyed comic scene to play out so badly and it kind of sucked to understand that it wasn't gonna happen. Thank you fucking much, Dad.

...And speaking of dads, that was my real reason for coming here in the first place. Sure I had planned to stop and say hi to mine but Damon Mcready was why I made plans with his daughter to meet here. I figured she'd want to see what I got for him.

"...Creepy..."

I slowed my walking when spotting the plot beside "BD's". I guess it was a kid's grave or something which is kind of understandable since it was in a more exclusive side of the cemetery...But it was also disturbing being all bombarded in hockey shit. Pucks, sticks, padding, and a mask...Which I promptly moved from falling onto Mr. Mcready's plot. Oh yeah, touching it made it even creepier.

"Sorry about that, Damon."

I plopped down on the bench in front of the headstone, which incidentally cost more than my own dad's plot since I just had to request a burial with a seat. Don't get me wrong, I loved my father, but I wanted Mindy to be nice and comfy whenever she visited Big Daddy. Ok I more so did it so she wouldn't be more pissed off at me but honestly how much more could she have been?

...Alright, I shouldn't have thought about that since now all I could ponder was where **I'd** be buried here! Mindy plus more angry at me equals a missing throat and chunk of worm-filled dirt eating at my face...But if that was to be the outcome of the day I couldn't blame her for mercilessly stabbing me in places. I had pretty much and literally dug my own grave already. I had screwed up her childhood more than it already was, I put up a commemorative stone for her dad without asking, I asked her to ditch school today just to talk to me, and I hadn't taught her one goddamn thing she wanted to learn. Damn, why hadn't I killed myself?

"I'm so fucked..."

I leaned my head backwards, still having a glimmer of hope that that shining light would smack me or at least send a breeze to take away the smell of dog piss. Come on people it's a fucking resting place. Have some respect.

...Unfortunately for me, neither happened so I pulled my head forward again and crept back into thought. And not the deep thought consisting of the meaning of life like I had wanted. More like the memories of Mindy saying I wasn't like my dad that made me both happy and kinda pissed at the same time. And of course the memories of her seeing my new gloves...I probably shouldn't still be upset about that since I blew her off about why I really had them, but I'll admit I almost shit myself when she first grabbed them...And I hadn't fully lied to her about why they were there. I did lose my red ones after all, I just didn't bother to have another pair made.

"Why didn't I...?"

"What do you want?"

I jumped when hearing that familiar "you'll be a woman when I'm done with you" growl. So apparently she was mad beyond even my imagination.

"H-hey..."

I scooted closer to the edge of the bench as her ass managed to recreate that same stomp from the first time we talked at the bowling place. And like that time, I had to hold my tongue from asking why she did that.

"That's not what I asked." She glared at me.

"Mindy, please...I just..."

"Just want to teach me and be a hero. I've heard this before, Dumb Ass."

I started shaking as I stood up. I know that sounds pussyish and lame but as of now I was starting to get mad...Just not mad enough to be calm in the face of Hit-Girl.

"I wanted to show you that!" I pointed, her head slowly turning to see the engraved cross.

It was at this particular moment I (yet again) exaggerated the situation. I was truly expecting her to glare back at me, start screaming and turning my innards into outards, and finishing by laughing at me for being stupid enough to take her daddy's death into my own hands. Instead I got this shock of mixed emotions where I had to immediately lose my anger and put on some sympathy.

"I..."

I quickly followed to stand next to her while she slumped down on the plot. It kinda seemed like she was ditching the anger too so I figured I was safe...for now.

"I...Dave told me about the "spotlight the mayor would shine" for you two but when I asked for a giant cock headstone the bitch hung up on me." I knelt down next to her while she tried to hide her smirk. Obviously joking worked more than pity.

"Also cremation didn't cost too much since he was already a corn chip."

I'm not exactly sure when she moved or why I didn't see it, but the next thing I knew was feeling her punch me in the arm and my ass falling onto a sprinkler head. Too far?

"I was fucking kidding! Ow, it still hasn't healed from the last time you did that." I readjusted my position.

Her nails dug into the grass, "...Th-Thank you..."

For a minute I was kinda taken aback. From the sprinkler that reminded me that I'm not gay or from her trying to be nice? I don't know which.

"...You're welcome..." I wrapped my uninjured arm around her, "I just wish I could give you lessons that compared to this."

I suddenly felt my skin twitch when her arm held itself around my waist. Heh, hopefully she'd never know how much enjoyment I got out of that.

"H-have you learned anything at all from me?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I learned never to trust a hairstyling item."

...That's a hell no...

"Can I try one last time?"

I tugged myself from her grip before nervously kissing her forehead. It's not so much that I was worried about her reaction as it was fear that Big Daddy's ashes would morph into a zombie and rise from the dirt to chop my head in two...And no, not the head on my shoulders.

"Go on a date with me?" I would have liked to see her expression change but my eyes wouldn't leave the grave. He was gonna choke me at any second...I was sure of it.

"Date?"

I glanced back long enough to see her face twist with confusion.

"I'll be fun, I won't pick anywhere lame or any place that sells deadly bowling alley food."

"Um O-Ok..." Her eyes narrowed at me before she wiggled from my hold. The glare being replaced with a calm stare when she looked back down to her dad. "Drive me home?"

"I don't think he can but I will."

Again she gave a hidden smirk as she started on her journey to find where I parked my car. And all I could do was secretly wish her luck since I had no fucking clue where I had put it. But after all that drama who would? I had gone from being depressed, to confused, to mad, to happy, to overwhelmed...I'd be cliche and say the day had turned out to be like a book after all, but it really hadn't since those emotions usually happen to the hero...And as I sat there for a second longer to look at that kid's hockey mask I could only feel like this was really my last chance.

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**A/N: A shorter chapter but I like the way it came out. Please review.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks for the hits and reviews! Sorry for the wait. Please review.**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Ten: Reflex**

So when I think of Christopher Nerd D'amico's clothing style, it's pretty much the same as everyone else's (I'd assume anyway). His dorky sweater vests, collared shirts, cardigans he wore during the summer for a God-knows-why reason, and that orange shirt of death that made me want to gouge my own fucking eyes out with a stick. Alright, that last one was probably just **my **own opinion.

...Well regardless if I was the only one who would rather bleed via my eye sockets isn't the issue. Hell even Chris's "normal" fashion wasn't. The issue that had led to me thinking about how he dressed was because of what he was currently donning. A fucking tuxedo-type suit thing...Couldn't he have just worn his Red Mist shit so people wouldn't stare as much?

Ok, since we were currently going to some fancy restaurant, people wouldn't stare at him...Except me. Hey, I'm not saying I was in a slutty romantic daze of liking a man in uniform and wanting to rip it off. It's just that I was shocked as Hell that the ass who shot me out a window could cleanup so "nicely". So "nice" in fact that it made me wish he **had **worn the costume that way I wouldn't be so damn nervous.

Again, I'm not trying to make this sappy or cliche. It's not a fucking movie where all the girls are saying "Oh he looked so fuckable and fine, I just wanted to faint" or "Hurry up, 007 and screw me". Fuck that! I was only nervous because he didn't tell me to dress up too...Not that I had anything to wear to a rich place but I could've worn a longer skirt or some shit so people wouldn't look at **me** weird.

"We'll valet her."

"...You call your car a her because she's the only one you could get inside of, huh?" I smirked as his lip twitched from holding back a laugh. At least he was starting to get my humor.

"Very funny, Mindy." He finally chuckled before stopping in front of the restaurant. Quickly stepping out to hand the valet guy the keys and then head over to open my door for me. Of course I was already getting out, spoiling his gay chivalry manners. Honestly, did he really think I liked that stupid shit? I can open my own goddamn door.

"I could've gotten that for y-..."

"Aw, I didn't know you had a little sister, Mr. D'amico."

The asshole doorman cut Chris off before I was able to tell him to shut the hell up about the "polite" crap. Fucking rude workers.

"Y-Yeah..uh..." He suddenly glanced back to shoot me a glare that screamed "I'm gonna cup your mouth if you say one goddamn swear word"!

I only giggled while putting on a face that rivaled his with my innocent smile of "now why would I do that, silly"? But honestly, why the fuck would I? I don't give a shit what some cunty doorman thinks of me. Well that and the fact that I didn't have any right to embarrass Chris as of now. As shitty as it was, I owed the douche for what he did for Daddy.

"Come on "Big Brother", I'm frickin' hungry."

Slowly, Chris started to say something while his face began to resemble a cherry, but as usual I ignored it, grabbed his hand, and pulled him through the doorway. I still don't know why he was so shy. "Frickin'" isn't a bad fucking word and I wasn't **trying **to humiliate him for God's sake.

"Jesus Christ, Mindy..." He ran his free hand over his face while the chick took us to our table. I'm guessing he was pretty well-known here since the door guy knew him and the lady didn't even have to ask which reservation he was...Which kinda made me wonder how many times he had been here and why the hell he spent so much for food.

No, never mind. I hadn't truly wondered why he spent so much for this place's shit until we got to our table. A table that had no spoons, forks, or knifes, and had these weird ass dips in them that looked like bowls.

"You're fucking kidding. People **pay** to eat off the table?" I scooted closer into the booth as he sat next to me.

"C-Can you please watch your mouth until the server leaves?"

We both looked up to see the girl who seated us blushing and biting her lower lip. How was I supposed to know she was still there, and that the bitch was our waitress too? Eh, it must not have bothered her too much cause she calmly handed us our menus and went off to get our drinks.

"So anyway why do you pay to eat off the furniture?" I looked at him.

He cleared his throat, "I don't know why other people do it but I do it cause it's different. And I thought it would be fun for you too..."

"...Well it's different, I'll give you that much, but we could've just stayed home and poured soup onto the couch."

"Sorry...I..."

"Don't fucking apologize, please. I'm just a little pissed you didn't tell me to dress "appropriately" for this shit." I looked down at my pleated skirt and shirt.

"You," his shaking fingers slipped under my chin, making me look back up at him, "look nice. I don't think I need to give you a fashion lesson and I don't care if you actually wear makeup or not."

I slowly pulled back, "I wouldn't take your fashion advice, Secret Italian Man."

He glanced down for a second before smirking at me, "Girls love a guy in a suit."

"**Some **sluts do but not when it's a dude who normally wears a sweater vest...Also is it really smart to wear one to a place that you use your fucking hands to eat with?"

"...They give you utensils if you ask."

"Yeah but then they think you're a pussy, Pussy." I laughed.

"I am not." He stopped when the drinks were set on the table along with some sweet appetizer being poured into the center dip. The same chick who seated us and who almost chewed her lip off when I said fuck quickly getting our orders and running away again.

"Are too." I plopped two of my fingers into the pudding stuff, turning to smirk at him.

"Am not, Smart Ass."

...Call it a reflex from so much training but when he tried to grab my wrist, I almost fell backwards in the seat. It was only after I quickly reminded my stupid ass that he wasn't really a threat did I let him take my fingers into his mouth. Ok, I didn't know he was gonna do **that**, which is why I almost yanked his teeth out when jerking my hand back.

"W-what...You..." I stopped stuttering long enough to hear him laughing at me. Though I'm not sure if he was really laughing at me or holding back the tears from his injured jaw.

"You're so fucking jumpy."

Ok, so obviously he was laughing. Jackass.

"Yeah well I was kinda surprised that little virgin Christopher would pull that shit on a date!" I could feel my blushing face.

"On a **first** date." He held his finger up like some screwball detective while trying not to choke.

My eyes widened, "Are you saying this is your first frickin' date **ever**?"

I allowed myself to take in the realization while he nodded what I guess was a yes. It was more of a "don't tell anyone cause I've already told Dave I scored" shrug, but still I was honestly stunned. I mean I knew he had never fucked anyone, but you'd figure a guy walking around with a ton of fucking cash would have loads of gold-digging whores begging to date him. Damn...That means the actual realization here isn't that Chris had never been on a date, but that he was such a huge nerd that no girl would speak to him despite that he's rich. Fuck, that sucks.

"So why did you pick me to be your first?" I turned away to finally get my own scoop of pudding.

I could see him still watching me out of the corner of my eye, "...Because you're not a whiny bitch like the girls at school. You aren't stuck up, you're fucking funny, attractive, cool, and sweet."

I choked, ""Sweet"?"

"Yeah, " he took my clean hand, "you're a hero. You help people even if it's just cause you want to be able to beat some asshole to death. And you're dad obviously loved you enough to train you to be safe...and you loved him. I'd consider that pretty damn sweet since I can't say the same for my dad. Sweet and cheesy as all mother fucking hell."

I laughed, "...I guess...I wouldn't know any different though since my daddy wasn't a douche likes yours."

I licked my fingers clean, wiping the leftover spit on my skirt before putting my hand over Chris's (his hand that was still holding my other one).

"Am I," his grip tightened,"really not like my dad?"

"No." I sighed, "You're too good to be a fuck face, dick wad, cock sucking, drug lord."

His eyes narrowed at me, "...I..."

"But if you want to be, you should." I blinked.

"A "bad guy"? Wh-...?" He laughed with his usual nervousness.

"But if you did," I watched the waitress trot back over to arrange our dinner in the grooves before giving a farewell wave, "I'd stop you."

Sometimes I regret not watching him, it'd have been nice to see that look of "you wouldn't really hurt me, right" expression that I'm sure he had. But there was fresh food waiting for me to fuck it up in front of me. Do I really need to even contemplate why I chose the grub over his puffed out cheeks?

"So," I tried to break the new awkward silence, "got any new lessons for me?"

"Just one..."

Again, my reflexes tried to take control and tug me away from his grip, but he had gotten quicker reflexes himself. Or maybe he knew I'd jump.. Either way I wasn't able to free myself from his arms wrapping around me and his mouth roughly pressing to mine. God, I don't think vanilla pudding had ever tasted so fucking sweet, and I don't give a flying fuck who thinks I was being a fucking wimp. Yeah, my arms felt weak, I was blushing, and my cunt was close to throbbing...And I had Christopher D'amico slipping his tongue into me. Fuck yeah.

"...But," he kept his mouth close to mine, "I'll only teach you if I get a second date."

"A-Another eatery?" I reopened my eyes.

"No, something more amusing."

I couldn't help smiling at the weird cocky smirk that spread along his lips. And yeah, it was weird seeing dorky, nerdlisious, geekzilla Chris have a devious expression...Especially since it was turning me on.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it. ^^ I'm sorry for the mistakes, kinda tired. Oh and the next chapter should be the last. Please review. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the insanely long wait. Forgive me? I hope so and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. ^^**

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**Childhood**

**Chapter Eleven: Villain**

Ok, so you know how you fuck up on something then you try to fix it, but it makes it worse then you try to fix it again, and it makes it worse...worse? Then after it's gotten as bad as it can get you just say fuck it and go play World Of Warcraft? Well as I paced up and down the dock that's all I wanted to fucking do. And the really jacked up part is that I couldn't! Not only because I currently didn't have a WOW account but also because if I even risked going home, Hit-Girl would hunt me down and choke me for bailing on our "date".

"I got sick? No. Um..." I managed to dig my hand through the wig to scratch my head. My feet stopping as I did, ending their hour-long pace I had put them through. How I handled walking for so long in those God-forsaken boots, I'll never know.

"...Heh." I gave a laugh that I can't even really consider to be a laugh. It was more of a pathetic snort that screamed "I'm so far into the cave of screwed that I found the Bat Mobile". Yes, it was that deep and more importantly were the reasons as to why I was coming up with retarded analogies.

For one thing (that relates to my questioning of fucking things up) I had fucked this childhood crap up so badly there was really no point in trying to salvage it anymore. I hadn't taught Mindy anything useful despite that not being my **actual **reason for doing any of it. I wanted to give her fun memories that she could look back on one day and not just think of her dad looking like an over-cooked lasagna. But because of all the shit I pulled, she wouldn't have that.

Another reason for me being worried the Bat Mobile alarm would go off at any moment goes right back to my dear ol' dad. And even I'll admit I was tired of hearing myself bitch about him...But as of now what else could I fucking do? He started this bullshit, I made it worse, and even after I screwed up a little girl, I knew he still wasn't proud of me! Fuck.

I let out a groan before considering my last reason. Which, incidentally, was probably more important than either of the other two combined. Yeah, I was knee-deep in the screwed cave because currently I was standing on a dock where some of my dad's old clients hung out, in the dark, in the middle of the night, walking around in a super hero costume, waiting for Hit-Girl, and not concentrating on my surroundings. Hell, just mug me and leave in a crate for some fisherman to find so he can also mug me!

"Hurry up, Mindy..."

"Well fuck my mother, it's little D'amico."

I quickly turned when hearing the all-to-familiar voice of one of my dad's ex-partners. Not that I had to look to already know it was that Ricky douche bag who fucked my dad out of a couple hundred kilos. But come on, he's a prick drug lord who was well aware of the fact that I was Red Mist and he probably wanted to cut me a little.

"Long time no see?" I shrugged.

"Heh," he laughed, "now see I thought after your daddy died you probably cried over not sucking his balls and jumped off a building."

Man, holding back the urge to rip this motherfucker a new one was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and being a horny virgin I know how hard things can get.

"Why would I want to when you already did for years before screwing him over?" I pulled out that cocky smirk I used on Mindy a while back...Only this time I was hella fucking nervous.

"Ah Christopher, don't be jealous. After all you were always "Daddy's favorite little fuck-up"."

Ok, I'll admit it was another mistake I'd have to deal with the rest of my life. Another one I would more-than-likely try to fix and end up failing. But that was the last straw and I didn't fucking care anymore.

I'm not sure how I did it or where the hell the skill came from but I grabbed that cunt by the throat, threw him to the ground, and shot him point blank without blinking twice. It was only after I was standing there tucking my gun away that I myself actually realized what I had done.

But again, I couldn't honestly care...too much anyway. It was no different than those fuck face thugs who approached Mindy and me...Ok maybe not since I didn't know them formally but lets be serious...Isn't one less cunt in the world better? Especially after he **did** fuck with my family and said that shit. Not that that bother me too much either.

"Nice shot."

I suddenly looked up to see Hit-Girl sitting on the hood of my car. Her voice giggling louder and louder.

"Nice sarcasm." I finished adjusting my weapon, walking over to join her.

"So where the fuck have you been?" I laughed nervously.

"Home. Marcus took the night off then his date canceled...Bitch. I had to fucking change in that alley back there!" She pointed behind some beat-up warehouse.

"You may not be much of a "girly girl" but you bitch about changing outside?" I smirked, rotating myself to sit further up on the car.

"Fuck you! Do you know how hard it is to put this shit on in the dark while a pervert jacks off? Not all liquid is good for sliding leather on."

Yeah, so I won't deny gagging at that thought slightly. Mindy plus pervert, plus sperm jokes, plus fucking gross equals...Fucking gross.

"So," she stopped to laugh at my choking, "this new lesson..."

"No." I guess I hadn't learned to not interrupt her. "No more lessons...I need to give you at least one good memory...And I know it won't be a good one if it involves makeup, or hair, or cliques. Any of that stupid shit."

I'm pretty sure I mentioned that at a certain point of failing, people just say fuck it and go play WOW. In other words they give up all together. Well I didn't have an active membership to that game so I'll consider this my way of giving up. I already knew from the start that Big Daddy had taught her everything she actually needed to know. There was nothing I could do that he hadn't already done...Save the one thing I was about to do.

"Mindy..." I let myself slide off the hood, readjusting to stand in front of the car, placing my hands on either side of her. "Is it...alright for me to...?"

Dude, I know I looked like a fucking apple when she suddenly grabbed my jaw and forced me into a kiss. Yeah, just like a green apple from the slight pain of her nearly cracking my bones, and kind of like a red one from the hurtful truth that an eleven-year-old knew more about sex than me!

"Mindy, fucking careful!" I rubbed my chin while my lips stayed against her.

"I'll be gentle, Christopher." I could feel her devilish little smirk curling upwards before she shoved her tongue into my mouth. The wetness lapping at the roof of it before I pushed it back with mine. Our tongues getting in this wrestling match type thing that made me wonder if they would accidentally get knotted...And if so, how odd would going to the emergency room be?

"Ah! Mindy!"

I jumped, hiding my tongue back in my mouth when she cupped her hand over my pants. My hips twitching in frustration as she began roughly massaging my already hardened dick.

'_**Scratch!'**_

My nails somehow clawed through one the gloves, scrapping off lines of paint from my poor car, my other hand quickly unzipping her jacket. It was surprisingly light weight for being leather and having a cape attached, but I didn't notice at that time since soon after it was off I tossed it aside.

"Christopher..." She playfully moaned in my ear before I gently bit her neck, my hand moving down to unstrap her belt, skirt, and attempt to slide her pants off.

"Goddamn these things are tight." I had to step back and sigh as she easily removed them, my hips jolting forward when her bare legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me against her. Apparently, she was "bare" everywhere else too.

"No Hello Kitty panties?" I teased while unzipping my own snug pants.

"Fuck no. Besides I prefer Barbie." She smirked when looking down at my boxers, her expression changing into this weird look that I guess was just nervousness.

"R-Ready?" My voice cracked slightly when she nodded. My hands shaking and sweating when I pulled it out from my shorts. Sure I could jerk off in front of a maid and not care an hour later but I can't show it to Mindy?

"Um ok, if it hurts too much tell me and I'll stop. Ok?"

She stayed quiet as I pulled her legs tighter around me, her trembling hands roughly clutching my shoulders. My own hands still shaking when adjusting my dick to fit her tightness. And damn she was tight.

"It's ok, Mindy." I held her close when I started to push in, even more close when she started to gasp in pain.

"Chris...Fuck!" She choked out a growl.

"Yes, that's what this is." I'm not sure if I was trying to make a joke or not but either way neither of us laughed. "Ok, ok..." I nervously whispered, taking a deep breath before giving one hard thrust into her. The scream I expected to hear being more of a loud gasp when Mindy's cherry popped.

"Oh God, did I hurt...?"

"Yes! And it still fucking hurts so hurry up and start moving so it won't!" She bit my chest.

"Fine! Damn!"

Sweat dripped down my forehead, my makeup smearing down my cheeks as I started a horribly off-rhythm humping session. I can't even consider it fucking cause it was that pathetic! Luckily, Mindy didn't seem to notice or pretended not to so I'd keep going. And of course despite me obviously not knowing what to do it started to feel good for both of us.

"Ch-Chris..." She whimpered, burying her face in my leather as I moved faster and faster. My own moans muffling her voice.

"Mindy, Mindy...She's mature..."

She looked up with a confused expression before realizing I was trying to justify the situation...Then she just laughed at me. I couldn't blame her though...It was stupid of me to think I could make sex with a young girl ok but again did it matter anymore? Not really.

"Don't laugh, Mcready..." I started pumping harder and faster into her, making her lean back on her hands for balance, her cute face flushing with red.

"Don't come in me, D'amico!" She blurted out before biting her lower lip.

"I-I won't..." Oh yeah it hurt to say that, it also hurt to slow my pace and pull out before I ended up doing it. I could handle losing my dad, being put down every day for not being like him, and even kill someone I know, but that was one regret I may never recover from...Especially since afterwards wasn't how I pictured my first time to be like...and how quickly it ended.

Eh, in a way I'm happy how it turned out. I had always pictured it to be the girl falling asleep in my arms with a permanent smile plastered on her face...Then again in that scenario I also had a 12 inch cock and a pizza in one hand. Anyway in reality both Mindy and I stayed quiet while trying to come down from the sex high we were on...The only sound either of us making happening when she hid her shy smile and punched me in the arm. Telling me to text her later and me only giving a nod as she somehow managed to run off for home. How the hell was she not too sore?

"Heh..." I stumbled backwards before getting into the driver's seat, my head starting to regain focus enough for me to think over what had just happened. I had screwed...made love to Mindy, I hadn't been able to teach her much, I was still kind of regretting the decision I had made, and as I looked at the new hockey-style mask on the seat beside me I realized I was the one who learned a few lessons.

The lessons? I had made love with her because I...well liked her **a lot**. But due to not teaching her the way I wanted to I had to make a bad choice...Eventually I would have run out of things to teach her...At least this way I could always see her...

Ultimate lesson learned: Don't fall for the hero when you're the villain.

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**A/N: Yay it's complete. I want to thank all my readers and reviewers for encouraging me to finish this. I love you guys!**


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